


So Pretty

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Het, M/F bromance, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're so pretty, Nat," Steve murmured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> It's very inconvenient when people talk in your head at night when you're trying to fall asleep. Fortunately, kryptaria and nookienostradamus help me out when that happens.
> 
> This takes place after The Winter Soldier, but there are no spoilers.

When Natasha was in New York, she made it a point to visit Steve, especially since the Winter Soldier mission. (And that was a mission whether or not it was official.) Steve seemed happier now that he'd moved back to Brooklyn. He'd never really liked living in D.C., although he made pretty frequent visits now to Sam Wilson and his vets. He'd started volunteering at his local V.A., and that seemed to help a lot, too. Steve might be Captain America, super-soldier, but the serum had only changed his body; psychologically, he had the same shit to deal with as any other veteran. The same shit Natasha dealt with, in fact.

Which was why she called him up every time she was in New York, just as she connected with Clint every time she got the chance. Steve being an old-fashioned guy, she could count on him for a nice dinner at a quiet place with really good food, or a night throwing popcorn and laughing at a really cheesy thriller, or sometimes a tv marathon. Lately he had discovered Star Trek and was working his way through the whole franchise, starting with the Original Series. He did Kirk impersonations that made Nat giggle so hard she started to hiccup. Then, of course, he was all contrite and apologetic and kept trying out hiccup cures that just made her laugh harder.

And then there was the sex. Natasha told herself the sex wasn't the best part of visiting Steve, but sometimes it really was. Because Steve was so relaxed about it, undemanding, friendly, and, as always, a gentleman. 

Steve Rogers, virgin superhero, was a myth; of course he'd had sex back in the day, just not a lot of it. He'd been too busy for sex, not too pure. He was shy talking about sex, but he wasn't shy about doing it. The serum had given him a cock to match the rest of him, a size queen's dream, and the stamina of a much older man with the refractory period of a teenager. The funny thing was that he was slower to get hard the first time than most men; he did manage to say, once, that he had some control over that initial arousal, that if he could catch himself getting interested, he could switch it off. Whether that was the serum or Steve, Nat didn't know and didn't care. She just liked getting naked with him.

"Want you inside me," she said this time, rubbing her mouth over his. "For a long time." He did blush if she used the word "fuck".

"I can do that," he said, with one of those adorable grins. A few deep kisses, silky skin over hard muscle under her hands, gentle fingers stroking her open, and she was more than ready for his cock. Steve eased in, shifted, and then turned them over, easy and graceful, so she was on top.

Natasha groaned as Steve's cock pressed that little bit deeper, stretched her open that little bit more. His hands soothed her, centered her, running up and down her arms and coming to rest on her thighs. She lifted her hair off her shoulders and settled, arching her back.

"You're so pretty, Nat," Steve murmured. He lay perfectly still, willing to let her do whatever she felt like doing.

So pretty. Of all the things that had come out of her partners' mouths during sex, "so pretty" had never made the list. She'd heard "bitch" and "cunt" and "slut" and every insult a man could come up with for a woman who's giving him what he wants. And yeah, she'd heard the romantic promises, too, sometimes calculated, occasionally (unfortunately) sincere. She'd stopped paying attention years ago to anything that wasn't information, pure and simple.

But to Steve, she was pretty. Riding his cock, stroking her own breasts while she rocked slowly, she was pretty. His fingers flexed now and then where he held her, but otherwise he was relaxed, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, a faint smile on his lips. So pretty. Rubbing her clit, hard, spreading her lips and getting her fingers almost up in there with Steve's fat cock, she was pretty. She gasped as the orgasm rolled up her spine and lit her hair on fire, and Steve gripped her a little more firmly, groaned.

"Can we change?" he asked, and Nat nodded. He got her on her knees, pillows underneath--he had a lot of pillows on the bed, big fat pillows, which always struck her funny--pushed in, and started a good rhythm, not too hard, not too fast, absolutely steady.

Natasha groaned. He was gonna make her come like this, maybe two or three times before he wanted to change position. His hands were roaming her buttocks, squeezing, petting, teasing the cleft of her ass. He was such an ass man, although he'd never admit it. 

"Gonna come for me, Nat?" His voice was thick with pleasure.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she said, and did, shaking.

They finished up with him on top, which he liked, and she did, too. It took a lot of hard fucking and a lot of kissing and a lot of raking her fingers through his hair and scratching at him to pull that orgasm out of him, finally. He always groaned really loudly, ah, ah, ah, this time with his face pressed against her neck. 

She wasn't much of a cuddler, but Steve respected that, so after a quick stop in the bathroom, she came back to bed. It was nearly midnight, and he was dozing, a contented little smile on his face. She felt contented, too. Feeling her sit down, he reached for her hand, squeezed it, raised it to his lips for a kiss. 

"Wanna stay the night?" It was safe here, almost as safe as Stark's tower. 

"Thinking about it."

"There's this great diner I just found, fabulous breakfast…." His voice drifted deeper, softer, sleepier.

She stretched out beside him to at least watch him sleep for a while. When he slept, he looked younger than she'd ever felt; she could see in his face the skinny kid he'd been before the serum. The secret of Steve Rogers, of course, was that the skinny kid had never gone away; he was still there, intact, inside the six-foot-two man of muscle, the valiant superhero. It meant a lot that Steve Rogers of Brooklyn, who wanted to serve his country, thought she was pretty.


End file.
